Devil at the Vatican (BL)

Chapter 25

The headless demon Dante rushed them. His steps stomped into the ship, and Elio could feel the waves pick up with each motion. He was awakening the storms again.

Just when he was upon them, Marcel threw out his hand and a wave of powerful energy blasted forth from him. The priest removed a rosary from the breast pocket of his jacket as the demon faltered a few steps back. "Run Elio," he said. "Return to our cabin," Marcel told him. "It's too dangerous here."

Dante charged them again. Marcel lashed out with his rosary, which Elio realized was metal. It cut through the remaining flesh on Dante's neck with a sharp sizzle, but it did not slow him. Dante caught Marcel's arm before and snatched him forward. With inhuman strength, he swung Marcel into a wall of traveling trunks and wooden barrels. They shattered upon impact.

Most glorious Prince of the Heavenly Armies," Petru shouted, throwing dashes of holy water upon the demon's back. "Saint Michael the Archangel, defend us in "our battle against principalities and
powers, against the rulers of this world of darkness, against the spirits of wickedness in the high places!"

Dante turned to him and Elio. Immediately, Elio's legs gave out and he collapsed to the floor. Terror rattled his bones. Two long steps brought Dante face to face with Petru, who held up a small leather Bible and still splashed his holy water. The holy water fizzled upon contact, but not much else happened.

"It has no fucking head, Petru!" Marcel shouted, climbing up from the piles of clothes and wood. "It can't hear those words. It also can't see, so I'd suggest you duck."

Just as Marcel spoke those last words, Dante swung at Petru. His fist connected with the side of the Brother's head with a thump. Petru's skull knocked into an adjacent wooden pillar, and he went down hard.

When the demon swung again, Elio realized Marcel was correct. It didn't even realize that it had dropped Petru and was still trying to fight him.

From under his shirt, Marcel pulled out a brilliant purple stole. It shimmered even in the dark as though it had been sewn with threads of moonlight. As though sensing this great power, Dante's headless body spun around and swung on Marcel. The priest dodged his blows with very light steps back.

"In the Holy name of Jesus, I invoke the Keys of St. Benedict," Marcel murmured. His eyes were halfway closed. Every breath he took was full and heavy. It seemed to Elio that the priest in some sort of trance.

Marcel continued, "I implore thine loving heart to grant me the power to bind evil, o' pure vessel of God's grace. Obtain for me God's favor of which I stand so much in need. May the Holy Angels surround us and wash over this stole, making it sacred and unbreakable from those that wish to torment, tempt, or afflict harm upon me."

The demon lunged left for a split second, and Marcel moved right. The demon then shot right, faking out the priest and capturing him in its grasp. Marcel yelped in pain as Dante slammed him against another wall of luggage. The ship swayed hard as Dante swung Marcel to the opposite wall and slammed him into it.

Elio scrambled to his feet. He could feel Murmur revving up inside him again. His own demon swelled in his chest, building up its own power to attack.

Dante fizzled again. Smoke rose from gaping wounds in his back. To Elio's left, Petru was pulling himself up, slashing holy water at the creature. Elio rushed to his side to help him stand all the way.

"Pray with me Elio," Petru said. "I cast you out, unclean spirit! I cast you out under the Authority of God Almighty."

Elio repeated his words with him, chanting it as the Brother threw the holy water.

Dante released Marcel and turned back toward Petru. The priest took the opportunity to catch Dante's torso in the stole, tying his arms down to his sides with incredible strength. At once, Dante plummeted to the floor. More smoke rose from him as his body writhed under the stole.

The demon's arms began deflating first. It melted down from the heat of the holy item. Petru poured the remaining holy water over a blade Marcel had tucked in an ankle holster.

Elio looked away when Marcel drove the blade into Dante's heart over and over again. He could hear Marcel digging through Dante's chest until he fished out the oily black heart and stomping it to nothing under his boots.

Murmur calmed inside Elio's chest, which surprised him more than anything. The demon had been working so hard to break free this entire time, yet now it was silent. Even Marcel and Petru didn't seem to notice any malice in him.

Petru found Dante's head and they burned it in the coal room, then tossed the ashes into the sea as they prayed.

By the time Elio returned to his cabin, now clean and fixed as though nothing ever happened, he was entirely exhausted.

"I will bring you warm water for your bath," Marcel told him as Elio crawled into bed.

"I'll bathe tomorrow," Elio said. Marcel had already given him his jacket, and this felt like enough. He curled up against the wall, unable to make eye contact with the priest.

The bed shifted. Marcel climbed in next to him. He drew the blanket up to cover Elio's cold exposed legs. His chest pressed into Elio's back, and he then began gently patting his shoulder. Elio buried his face into the pillow.

"The demon inside me, it could have saved me," Elio said quietly. "If I removed the bracelets earlier... that thing wouldn't have..." His voice cracked and trailed off.

"It could have also taken over you."

Elio nodded. He had more things to say but chose not to. He didn't want to argue with Marcel, and he didn't want Marcel to figure out what exactly was happening down in the cargo hold. This entire experience was beyond bizarre.

You are never going to sleep with that priest so close, boy. I see it now... You love him. Poor filthy Elio, in love with a priest.  

Elio placed his hands over his ears to block out the sound of the demon's voice, only to be reminded that it was coming from inside him.